Matter of Time
by laced-scrawl
Summary: Draco turns up at Harry & Ginny's wedding reception to see Hermione. What does he want from her? Will she even hear him out? "Last time I checked, you weren't invited." "Yeah, well last time I checked, it was a free country." Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Matter of Time**

**A/N: **Just a random one-shot that popped into my head a while ago. Hope you like it! Please Read and Review! :)

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the storyline - everything else is J K Rowling's.

Hermione stood outside the massive hall with an empty flute of champagne and a throbbing headache. It was Harry and Ginny's wedding reception and, whilst she wasn't drunk, she knew that it would only take a few more drinks before she transcended from 'tipsy' to 'intoxicated'.

She didn't even know why she was so depressed. Harry and Ginny had finally gotten married – and they deserved every happiness that they received. She knew better than anyone how hard it had been for them, and she genuinely wished them every success for the future. But there was this irritating feeling in the back of her mind that just wouldn't go away. She'd spent the entire day talking to guests, making sure everything was in order and performing the usual Maid of Honour duties required of her, but she still felt weird. That's why she'd decided to come outside for some air in order to clear her head and make sense of her tangled thoughts.

She looked out on to the beautiful grounds with a wistful expression on her face. There was a cool breeze in the air and she wished that she had on a more practical dress - the bridesmaid dress she had on was thin, tight and revealing. Not exactly ideal for an October wedding. She twirled the empty flute around in her hands, enjoying the peace, before noticing a figure walking towards her. In the minimal light provided she couldn't really make out any of his features other than his hair - it was so blond that it seemed to glow. _Who did she know with hair that blond_?

"Evening Granger."

And suddenly, every defense mechanism in her body stood to attention.

"Malfoy. Last time I checked, you weren't invited."

"Yeah, well last time I checked, it was a free country."

Hermione rolled her eyes and studied him carefully as he walked up to her. Not a lot had changed since she'd last seen him when they were both seventeen: he was still unhealthily pale with an attractively chiselled jaw line; the same enchantingly translucent, alluring eyes, and a Quidditch player's physique. He'd grown a little more, making him about six foot, and seemed to be sporting stubble.

"You never used to have facial hair," she stated with a frown.

"_You_ never liked it."

"It makes you look scruffy," she said in a matter-of-fact tone that she seemed to use a lot around him.

"Well, there's no reason for me to look smart anymore, is there?"

"Like you've ever needed a reason!"

Draco smirked at her reply and she felt her stomach flutter. It amazed her how after five years, the same devilish smirk that screamed 'danger' still filled her with a fuzzy, light-headed feeling.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? And don't say it's to wish Harry and Ginny good luck because it's not remotely believable."

"Evidently having more fun than you!"

Hermione gave him a dark look which made him grin even more in triumph.

"Seriously – you're outside in the cold on your best friend's wedding day, on your own with an empty glass, clearly in a bad mood!"

"I wasn't in a bad mood until you showed up!"

Draco raised his eyebrows patronisingly and she sighed in annoyance.

"I _wasn't_! I came out here to get some fresh air because it's incredibly stuffy in there!"

Draco nodded with a smug smirk that showed his disbelief. Hermione utilised all of her strength to repress the impending explosion she knew was coming, and tried to turn the tables back on him.

"You still haven't told me why you're here!"

"I was getting some fresh air, just like you apparently," he said in a light tone that he knew would irritate her further.

"Oh please!" she exclaimed angrily. "Like I'd believe that you came to your enemy's wedding reception for fresh air!"

Draco's smirk faded and he suddenly took on a more serious look.

"I came to see you."

Hermione swallowed thickly and said nothing as Draco's eyes travelled over her appreciatively. _Damn the stupid, revealing bridesmaid dress! _She inwardly cursed as his eyes lingered briefly on her exposed cleavage.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to." He replied in a slightly husky tone.

"W_hy_?"

"Does everything have to have a reason?" he asked before walking over to a bench over-looking the grounds and sitting down.

Hermione glared at his retreating back, hating the way he was making her feel. Whenever she was with him, she began to act like a jittery, love-struck sixteen year old, and she hated it. Even now, after he'd chosen to fight for the Dark Lord and she'd chosen to have nothing more to do with him. She despised his arrogant and conceited nature, but found it incredibly appealing at the same time. It was like there was a part of her that was awakened whenever he was around – a reckless, wild and irresponsible part that she kept hidden deep inside of her.

This was not good. She was with Ron. She loved Ron. Draco Malfoy was a bad seed – a substance that should be made illegal. He was like a tornado that riled her up, and left her broken amongst destruction that he'd caused long after he'd gone.

Despite this, she found herself joining him on the bench a few moments later. They both sat in a stubborn silence for a few moments until Draco decided to break the silence.

"A little birdy tells me that you're going out with the Weasel?"

"And there it is!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly, turning to face him with a knowing smile.

"There what is?" Draco asked in feigned innocence.

"The real reason why you're here! You wanted information! Draco, my relationship with Ron is none of your business…"

"Relationship?" he spluttered incredulously. "Please, it's a joke!"

Hermione glared at him.

"Call it whatever you want, but for the first time in a long time, I'm happy, and you are not going to change that!"

Draco stared at her as though she'd grown two heads. The intensity of his gaze bothered her, and she looked away. Draco gently cupped her cheek and turned her back towards him, the mirth and sarcasm gone from his gaze.

"If you were happy, you'd be in there with him. If this were a proper relationship, you would have scolded me properly for calling it a joke. If you loved him…" he leaned in closer. "You wouldn't be here with me right now. You'd do everything in your power to be as far away from me as possible!"

His eyes bore into hers and it took Hermione a few seconds to pull away from him defiantly.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy! You can't just turn up out of the blue and start psycho-analysing me!"

"I wasn't," he said in a flat tone. "You may have everyone else fooled, Granger, but it doesn't work with me. I know you, and I know the look you give to someone when you love them, when you want them. You're giving it to me right now, and I'd be willing to bet my inheritance on the fact that no other man has received it - especially Weasley!"

Hermione stood up, clutching the champagne flute in her hands and wishing beyond belief that it was a portkey. Draco stood up too, making sure that he was right in front of her so that she couldn't simply run off.

"Deny it all you want Hermione, but you know it's only a matter of time before reality hits you, and when it does, I'll be waiting."

And before she could say anything in response, he lowered his head and kissed her on the lips. Electric sparks seemed to fly and suddenly, nothing else mattered. He slid his right hand around her waist and pulled her even closer to him, whilst she, forgetting about the glass she'd been clinging to, ran her hands through his silky blond hair – familiar feelings of lust and desire washing over her as her tongue got reacquainted with his. Neither of them noticed the smashed glass.

After a few moments they pulled apart for air and the cold air assaulted Hermione violently. She pulled away from him and tried to ignore the smug look on his face.

"You'll be waiting a very long time," she said simply before walking past him back into the hall.

Draco smirked as he watched her make her way back towards the hall, knowing that he'd won. The fragments of glass on the floor were proof of the fact that she still loved him. Just as she reached the door she stopped and looked back at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He winked at her and she blushed involuntarily, before pouting angrily and going back inside.

Draco grinned to himself; it was only a matter of time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Matter of Time**

**A/N: **Firstly, a massive thank you to everyone that reviewed and favourited – it completely made my day and i'm so glad so many of you liked it! And secondly, I made this into a multichapter fic for leakingpenholder, so this is basically dedicated to you too, because without u i would never have had the idea! The next few chapters should be out this week, depending on if i get them all typed up in time! Please read and review! Happy Reading!

**Chapter 2: The Repercussions of a Malfoy-induced Hangover**

Hermione instantly felt the claustrophobic heat return to her the moment she stepped back inside the hall. It was a huge space – one of the largest in the country, and yet she felt like she was trapped in a broom closet. She spotted a waiter with a tray full of champagne and made a beeline for him, grabbing a glass and draining it as though it was water. She then blinked a few times, to steady the bubbles in her head, before instinctively reaching for another.

"Hermione, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Ron's light-hearted, excited voice made her jump about a foot in the air. She turned to face him and smiled at him with wide eyes, almost as though she was seeing him for the first time.

"I was just getting some fresh air outside."

"Oh, ok!" he said absentmindedly, his mind clearly not able to stay focussed on her for too long. "Well it's almost time for the bouquet thing – Ginny's been asking for you for ages!"

Hermione sighed heavily, Draco's words ringing repeatedly in her ears; ' …_You may have everyone else fooled, Granger, but it doesn't work with me. I know you…' _Draco hadn't seen her in five years, and yet, he'd known straight away that there was something wrong with her. She saw Ronald practically every day, and as usual, he was perfectly indifferent. It also didn't help that he'd been asked to find her. Would he even have noticed her absence if Ginny hadn't have highlighted it?

She subconsciously reached for another champagne flute and drained it just as quickly as the last – she was trying desperately to drown out the all too familiar silky voice so full of smug righteousness that seemed to be echoing through her mind, that she didn't care about how she was appearing to everyone else.

"Um, Mione, don't you think you should maybe slow down?" Ron asked with a slightly concerned look on his face.

Hermione giggled, her head starting to hurt.

"Ron, it's a wedding! You're _supposed _to get drunk!"

And with that, she stumbled over to the bride and groom, no longer tipsy, but very much intoxicated, though whether the alcohol was entirely to blame for that, she was unsure.

**x-x-x**

The next morning was like a hazy mixture of physical and internal pain for Hermione. Her head throbbed violently, making the usually simple task of opening her eyes impossible, and her stomach seemed to be swirling around on its own accord, sloshing whatever its contents were around with the natural acid. She'd thrown up three times already and it just seemed to be getting worse. Her body ached angrily, and not even a steaming hot shower could ease it away.

Normally, she'd make the executive decision to stay in bed all day and attempt to sleep it off, but today she had to make an exception. She'd spent the night at the Burrow with the majority of the Weasley's, and Harry and Ginny had planned to come round and open their presents before they went off on their honeymoon that evening. In her drunken state last night, she'd foolishly promised Ginny that she'd keep record of everyone's gifts so that they could easily send out thank you cards via Hedwig. _Stupid alcohol. _

So, armed with a cup of strong black coffee, she curled up on an armchair by the roaring fire, and began to take notes as the happy couple began to open their gifts.

"What in God's name is this?" exclaimed Harry as he held up a rather distasteful vase that he'd just ripped the wrapping paper off of. It had a dated floral design painted onto it in colours that couldn't be defined by name or described by any word of English. Ginny wrinkled her nose in disgust and Ron shot them a sympathetic grin from his place on the floor.

"That's a family heirloom," Mrs Weasley said, coming into the living room. She'd been in the kitchen cooking lunch for everyone, and the smell was beginning to get to Hermione. "It's passed down to every newlywed couple in the family."

"Then why is it a gift from Aunty Muriel?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"Because, she only _just_ invented the tradition! You are the first married couple to _truly_ experience the joy it brings!" Mrs Weasley said with a sly smile. Harry sighed heavily and Hermione obediently wrote down the item and Muriel's name next to it.

The next few hours were spent like that, and it got to the point where Hermione was sure she would scream if one more present was opened. When everyone got up for a break, Ginny gave her a sympathetic hug.

"You should go over to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and pick up a hangover potion. We used to have one here, but mum stopped making it when we all moved out. Then again, I'm sure she'd make it for you, if you asked her…"

"Thanks Gin, but I don't mind going over to Diagon Alley. Maybe a change of scenery will do me some good?"

**x-x-x**

Hermione ran a hand through her hair and sighed heavily. She was getting more and more frustrated by each passing second, and her aching head wasn't helping matters. She'd been in the apothecary for about ten minutes and had had no luck whatsoever in locating the hangover potions. It also didn't help that the middle-aged woman at the counter was eyeing her with a judgemental glare.

"Looking for a hangover cure, Granger? I'm not surprised."

Hermione felt her blood boil as she heard the all too familiar voice of the one person she'd been hoping to avoid. She slowly turned around and looked up at the smug face of the man who seemed determined to be the bane of her existence.

"Do you have nothing better to do with your time other than stalk me, Malfoy?"

"Stalk is such a strong word!" he stated knowledgably, before leaning against the wooden shelf so that he was level with her. "And I'm merely concerned for your well being! You are not the type of woman to need a hangover potion! Did something happen last night to cause you to act this way?

Hermione glared at him but chose not to reply; it was completely and utterly pointless. He wanted her to admit to something that she had sworn herself against years ago. A few infuriating words and enticing looks were not going to change that. She was strong and stubborn, and intended on using these traits as her weapons against him.

He watched her with interest as she determinedly scanned the various bottles for what she wanted, hell bent on ignoring his presence. He never got tired of watching her – she was so entertaining and she didn't even know it; the way she frowned in annoyance when she failed to understand something, the way she read and re-read information quickly in her head so that she understood it fully. She picked up a vile of purple liquid and inspected its hand-written label, smiling in triumph when she realised it was what she wanted.

She walked over to the counter and he predictably followed. She rolled her eyes and turned to look at him, the silent tension becoming too taxing for her.

"Seriously Malfoy, give up. I'm not going to give you what you want. There's no point in you putting your life on hold for something that's never going to happen."

"You seem so sure of that," he said, pretending to take her seriously, amusement sparking in his eyes.

"Yes, because I am!" she exclaimed, paying the grumpy cashier whose eyes had widened at Draco's appearance, and taking her purchase. "This may be hard for you to comprehend, Malfoy, but I happen to be happy without you!"

"That is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard come out of your mouth, _Hermione_!" he exclaimed, emphasising her first name. "If I didn't know you so well I'd be inclined to believe you!"

Hermione sighed and turned to him.

"Stop saying that you know me! If you did, you'd leave me alone and get on with your life! I can't give you what you want!"

And with that, she walked out of the shop. For a split second, she thought she was off the hook, but her joy was short-lived. A moment later, Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her into a side alley so quickly that no one noticed. He pushed her up against the wall and leaned in to her.

"What I want," he said in a low tone. "Is _you_!"

"Well I can't give you that!" she retorted spitefully.

"You could if you wanted to!"

"And set myself up for heartbreak again? I don't think so!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd said the wrong thing. _Great!_ She mentally scolded herself, _open your heart to him, why don't you? _

Draco eyed her carefully before moving so that he was in direct line of her gaze.

"Is that why you're with Weasley?" he asked her softly. "Because you know that you don't care enough about him for your heart to get broken?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but somehow couldn't connect her brain to her tongue. Draco smirked down at her before releasing her arm and gently caressing her cheek with his finger.

"Is that why you won't let yourself come back to me, Hermione? Because you're scared I'll hurt you again?"

Hermione subconsciously leaned into his touch, though it was so light that she could just about feel it ghost over her skin. His breath tickled her nose, and she realised just how relaxed she was at that moment. She'd been convinced after they'd split up all those years ago that she'd never feel safe with him ever again - God only knew what he'd done as a death eater. But at that moment in time, she felt like she belonged with him. She seemed to fit with him in more ways than one. It didn't matter that he had her pinned up against a wall, or that she was vulnerable and at his mercy, because she didn't feel scared. She felt some sort of security within her that made her believe he wouldn't hurt her.

"Because you know I'd never do it again. I love you too much, and I understand what it means to lose you."

She felt herself fall for him all over again as each sweet word left his lips. He lent his forehead against hers and she allowed him to rest it there. She slowly lifted her free hand and ran it along the edge of his jaw. His eyes locked with hers and she almost let herself drown fully in the intense emotions that seemed to exude from them.

Almost.

She pulled back from him and dropped her hand, her mind suddenly starting to go back to its normal way of working. He looked at her in confusion and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty, though for what she wasn't sure.

"I've always known that you'd never hurt me physically, Draco. I still believe it to this day. But, I know for a fact that you can hurt me emotionally, and that scares me the most because knowing you, you won't even do it intentionally. But I can't take that risk. I won't. It's not worth it."

A moment later and she was back in the Burrow, with a head ache that centred around an entirely different issue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Matter of Time**

**A/N: Hey! Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted! I'm glad you all liked the last chapter, and I really hope you like this one too! The next chapter should be up this weekend, but I also have a lot of work on, so we'll see how it goes! Please read and review! **

**Asdfghjkl: **Thank you so much for your review! I don't have a fixed number of days between updates, and I've actually surprised myself by updating this as quickly as I have! I have lots of school work so I try to juggle everything around. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter! I updated as soon as I could! xx

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing apart from the plot!

**Chapter 3: Too Close for Comfort**

A survey once conducted by Witch Weekly found that 95% of the female Wizarding population loved to receive flowers at work, and that a further 68% of them preferred it when they were from an anonymous buyer.

Hermione Granger was not one of those women.

She'd arrived at work that morning to find a large bouquet of yellow peonies sitting contently on her desk, staring menacingly at her as she glared at them from the doorway. When she'd eventually plucked up the patience to inspect them, she found that they were from 'Thistle do Nicely' flowers. She wrinkled her nose and sighed. Trust the person who got her flowers to purchase them from the cheapest florist in Diagon Alley. There was no card that came with them, no form of identification attached anywhere, which meant there was no way of her finding out who sent them.

She sighed again and picked them up. She'd always hated that particular shade of yellow because it reminded her of custard, and she'd never liked custard. Her grandmother had always made it incredibly lumpy and it had never sat well with her.

She looked again at that paper and her brilliant mind began to work. Maybe if she went over to the florist and asked them who bought them, they'd tell her? It was guaranteed to work, unless the person who'd bought them had requested to remain anonymous. Once that happened, the florist had to cast a charm on the flowers that made them impossible to be traced. Logically, she assumed that because they didn't come with a card, the person who bought them probably wanted to remain anonymous, but they'd also gotten her flowers from the cheapest florist known to the Wizarding world. It was worth a try.

So she'd apparated there as soon as her lunch break began, full of caffeine and determined to get some answers.

'Thistle do Nicely' Florists was quite a small shop that seemed to be bursting at the seams with plant life. As soon as Hermione entered, she found herself taken aback by the smell of…something particularly unpleasantly strong. Her lungs rejected it immediately, and she found herself having to take very short breaths.

"How can I help you?" asked an elderly woman behind the counter. Hermione jumped at the sudden voice, but recovered fairly quickly. She showed her the flowers and asked if there was a way that she could find out who sent them. The woman pushed her spectacles up higher on the bridge of her nose and pulled out her wand. She uttered a spell that Hermione wasn't familiar with, and a light blue light appeared from the bouquet.

"I'm sorry dear," she said, handing the flowers back to her. "But the person who bought them for you asked to remain anonymous."

Hermione spluttered and the woman raised an eyebrow.

"Can't you just tell me? Please? I really have to know…"

"I' sorry, but rules are rules. Besides, the charm won't allow it."

Hermione rolled her eyes before thanking the woman half-heartedly and heading back outside.

As she stood outside the florists with a hopelessly dejected look on her face, she saw a tidy mass of unusually blond hair walk into Flourish and Blotts.

She knew that platinum blond hair like that back of her hand, and suddenly, everything made sense to her. _He_ was the one that had sent her the flowers! Why, she wasn't entirely sure, but that didn't matter. The point was that he had sent them to her, and she wasn't going back to work until she'd confronted him about it.

She marched into her favourite bookshop of all time, thankful to find that it was practically empty aside from one or two middle-aged wizards, and followed him slyly until he stopped walking and stood in front of a shelf. She sneaked up behind him, grabbed hold of his left arm, and yanked him hard.

"This has gone far enough, Malfoy!" She exclaimed angrily, once she'd dragged him over to a secluded area of the infamous bookshop. "Whatever game it is you're playing ends now!"

Draco looked down at her, pure amusement lighting up his face.

"How much coffee have you had today, Granger?"

Hermione made an aggravated noise and hit him on the arm, hard.

"Ow!"

"This isn't funny you infuriating prat! It's one thing to corner me and push me into side streets, but to send flowers to my work? Are you crazy?"

Draco's smirk was swiftly replaced with a confused frown, momentarily lost.

"Wait, what?"

"Don't act stupid!" She exclaimed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I received these today, and I know they're from you!"

Draco glared at her as she thrust the peonies into his unsuspecting hands.

"Hermione, why in the name of Merlin would I send you flowers?"

"I don't know! Why do you ever do anything?" She asked with a quirked eyebrow. He gave her a pointed look, almost mocking her for her poor response. She studied him closely before coming to her own conclusion: "You did it to cause trouble between Ron and I, didn't you? Why didn't I see it before?"

Draco scoffed and Hermione's glare deepened in annoyance.

"If I wanted to cause trouble between you and lover boy, I promise you I'd be a hell of a lot more creative! Flowers aren't exactly original! And how do you know that your beloved boyfriend didn't send them to you?"

"Because Ron never sends me flowers…"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Hermione knew she'd made the biggest mistake she ever could. Draco looked at her with a mixture of triumph and pity.

"Never sends you flowers? Some prince charming he is!" he mocked with a sincere look in his eyes that seemed to scream 'I told you so!'

"Oh for heaven's sake, Malfoy!" she exclaimed, suddenly starting to lose her patience. "Just admit that you sent them!"

Draco rolled his eyes and gently put the flowers back in her arms. She looked at him and confusion and he simply smiled in return.

"Hermione, if I was going to send you flowers, firstly I'd pick a better florist," he said, grimacing at the garish paper that said '_ Flowers' in twirly lettering. "Secondly, I wouldn't send them to your work because I know how much you hate unwanted attention. Thirdly, I wouldn't get that shade of yellow because I know it reminds you of lemon meringue pie, and I know how nauseous that makes you. And fourthly," he said, tracing his hand over her cheek before it rested contentedly on her cheek. "I'd get you a mixture of red and white roses, because apart they represent love and innocence, and together they represent unity, and I know how much they mean to you."

Hermione looked into his eyes, completely transfixed by the swirling spheres of steel, and felt herself literally melting into him. She couldn't believe how well he knew her after all the time they'd spent apart. No one else knew those things about her, and she doubted that if they did, they'd remember it for five years. At that moment, all the hurt she'd felt as a teenager when he'd left her to join Voldermort, abandoned her to fight for the dark side, suddenly seemed to evapourate. All that mattered to her was the fact that she was staring up at a man who seemed to love her unquestionably, and although circumstance stopped her from doing something she knew she'd regret later, she found herself feeling oddly comforted.

"So," he said in a concluding tone. "Now that we've established that whoever did send you those hideous flowers clearly knows nothing about you, can I stop being interrogated?"

Hermione nodded and he smirked before stepping away from her. She continued to stare at him, and he raised an eyebrow in question.

"What now, Granger?" he asked, pretending to be sick of her. She smiled menacingly at him.

"If I remember correctly, I never liked custard. _You_ were the one who didn't like lemon meringue. Or lemons. Or bananas. You were convinced that they gave you hay fever!"

Draco smiled in response, his eyes lighting up at the fact that she remembered.

"A true Slytherin doesn't like yellow!" he stated proudly.

"Or you just have serious issues that need addressing!" she said playfully, her smile turning into a full grin.

Draco chuckled and Hermione found herself enjoying herself. It reminded her of the many conversations they'd had years ago; conversations that were funny, playful and focussed on anything but the darkness in their lives that eventually pulled them apart. It made things seem so simple and easy – and she hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

"I have to go," she said after a few more reminiscent jokes. "My lunch break's almost over and I still have to find out who sent me these."

Draco nodded but gave her a look that made her frown in puzzlement.

"What?"

"You _know _who sent you the flowers. You've known ever since you believed that it wasn't me."

Hermione looked away from him and he tilted her head back up to look at him.

"You know that it was Weasley. And you don't want to admit it because admitting it means that you're with someone who doesn't know you that well at all…"

"No one knows that stuff about me!"

"And yet I do?"

"I loved you!" she blurted out before she could stop herself. Draco blinked down at her and she took a few breaths to compose herself. "I told you everything, things I'd never dream of telling anyone else! And look what happened there; we broke up and I lost faith in the sincerity of the male race! I'm not the only woman to have done that before, you know!"

Draco released her chin and stepped closer to her so that their bodies touched.

"I broke your trust so badly that you stopped trusting your best friends?" It was more of a statement as opposed to a question, but she nodded anyway. He sighed and lent closer to her. "I think you still love me, Hermione, because if you didn't, this wouldn't still hurt. You would have realised that not everyone is going to leave you and betray you. But you still have faith in me, don't you?"

Hermione blinked in response, not knowing whether to nod or shake her head as both felt wrong.

"You believe deep down, in your heart of hearts, that you can trust me," he lent back and looked into her eyes, a smirk forming on his face. "Because you know that you never told me that you hated custard. You never told me what the colours of roses meant – I researched it myself to make sure I always got you the right colour. You never told me that you hated unwanted attention – I figured that out myself from the way you go bite your bottom lip anxiously."

Hermione swallowed hard and inhaled deeply.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she said quietly. "I can't deny that you know me; it's obvious. But I'm not about to leave Ronald and give up everything I have now to take a risk on you. I can't take a risk on you anymore, even though I want to. I'm sorry."

And after moving away from him, she walked back through the shop and out of the door, trying unsuccessfully to hold in her tears for as long as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

**Matter of Time**

**A/N: **Sorry! I know it's been ages – I had intended to update sooner but life kept getting in the way! Anyway, I had an official snow day today so I decided to get this chapter sorted! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted – it means so much! Thanks again to aaliyah5509 who gave me the idea to incorporate a flashback into the story, which is in this chapter. I've already written the next chapter which will be the last one, and I'm hoping to upload it before the end of this week – but we'll see how it goes! I hope you like this – it's my least favourite chapter but I think that's because I kept stopping and starting it. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think! xxx

**Chapter 4: A Heart in need of Security**

It had been a week since the incident with the flowers, and consequently a week since Hermione had last interacted with Draco. Well, not quite. She'd sent him an owl later that same evening to let him know that it was in fact Ron who'd sent her the flowers. His response had been short, to the point, and dripping with smug righteousness; _I told you so_.

Since then she'd not heard a single thing from him. No unexpected encounters, no banter, no admissions of love. And she was glad of that. Really. All Draco Malfoy was to her was a physical representation of her history. When she was around him, she felt herself being transported back to her seventh year at Hogwarts, and she hated it.

But, she also knew that she had to face her feelings head on before they managed to eat her up from the inside. She knew that she wasn't in love with Ron in the same way that she was in love with Draco – she'd always been honest with herself when it came to that. But a future with Draco was something that she'd convinced herself she couldn't have, so much so that she'd started to believe it over the years.

Besides, her life with Ron was good. It wasn't laden with unexpected surprises or unnecessary drama. It was simplistic and easy – and much better for her. Ron offered her security and acceptance, as well as a loving family environment that she'd come to cherish.

But she missed spontaneity and the rush of adrenaline that came with every new experience being with Draco had ever opened her up to, although their relationship had always possessed a bittersweet edge to it. Every happiness they shared together was cherished, but always shadowed by the threat of an impending, inevitable war that they would both be very much involved in. Looking back, she found herself surprised that it hadn't ended sooner; their stubborn, constantly clashing egos were difficult enough without possible death looming over them. It wasn't the same as arguing with Ron – their arguments were always caused by misunderstandings and miscommunications. With Draco it was nearly always a case of them simply being too similar.

She could remember the day that everything had ended as though it were yesterday. She could still feel the way her had heart broken as realisation slapped her firmly round the face for the first time. Up until that moment, she'd clutched at straws, not caring how desperate she seemed to him. All that had mattered was that they stayed together.

But he hadn't listened to her pleas. He hadn't taken notice of the pain in her eyes. He'd remained adamant in his decision, and she'd held it against him ever since.

"_We'll find a way through this! We always do!" she pleaded, barely registering the tears streaming down her face or her voice cracking from the force of them. Her hands clutched his robes fiercely, as though letting go of them would mean accepting defeat. _

"_Not this time," he said coldly, trying to avoid looking at her face that was so engulfed in pain. Pain that he'd caused. " This time it's a matter of life and death. The entire situation is a lot bigger than us and a lot more important too." _

"_Please, Draco! We can make this work!" _

"_No."_

_There was a long silence that seemed to last forever. Hermione steadied her breathing and gathered herself together, deciding that enough was now enough._

"_Draco, if you walk away from us now, I swear there will be no way back." _

"_I have no choice." _

Only now, as she looked at the rain drops trickling down her bedroom window, did she realise that he'd spoken the truth. He'd had no choice. His father had forced him to get the dark mark scorched onto his forearm which was punishment enough. But with that mark came responsibilities that he'd have to follow through. By walking away, he'd saved both their lives, and she'd never realised it until now. She'd been so absorbed in hating him for not giving them a chance to work properly, for not having faith in their relationship, in their love, that she'd overlooked the reason why. The humiliation she'd felt as she'd laid her soul bare for him, only to have it ignored and thrown back in her face had driven her fury.

And now he was pursuing her. Laying his own soul down in front of her, divulging his inner-most feelings for her to either accept or reject. He wanted her to see that he was serious, and that he wanted them to be equals. Her repeated rejections and constant denials must have cut him deeper than any sharp object ever could.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She knew that he didn't deserve her hate. He deserved her upmost gratitude, respect and honesty. But the one thing that she couldn't decide on was whether he deserved her love. Was she even capable of giving it to him again? She'd closed her heart off for so long that she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to open it again. To him or to Ron.

**x-x-x**

She saw him the moment she entered the Leaky Cauldron that evening. It was packed with people – as you'd probably expect on a Friday night, but her attention was immediately drawn to him. Even from the back he managed to make her heart speed up – not that she'd ever tell him that. The cocky git would never let her forget it!

Hermione sidled up to the bar and sat down on the stool next to him as though it was second nature. He looked up in surprise and she smiled nervously, suddenly remembering all of those times they'd had to keep up a façade in public whilst whispering secret messages to each other in school. It gave her a warm feeling inside that she hadn't expected to feel. She

"Hi," she squeaked, her voice choosing that particular moment to change in octaves.

"Hi." His voice was low and a little husky due to the fire whiskey he was drinking. His eyes locked with hers and she found herself momentarily forget why she was there in the first place. She blushed under his gaze and he smirked.

"Drink?" he offered.

Hermione shook her head.

"No thank you, I actually need to talk to you about something…"

Draco turned to face her properly and dropped the smirk from his face, sensing that whatever she wanted to tell him was serious. Hermione took a few deep breaths, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and took the plunge she knew she needed to.

"I just wanted to tell you that, I do still have feelings for you. I don't know why, and I know it's wrong, but I can't get rid of them," Hermione started in a slightly nervous tone. Draco's eyes lit up in interest and he watched her over the rim of his glass as he drained the last of his fire whiskey.

"And, I know that there will always be something between us, something that neither one of us will ever be able to explain. But..."

"But what?" Draco interrupted, slamming his empty glass down on the bar. He'd anticipated the 'but' and didn't like where the conversation was going. "You want to ignore it and live in misery for the rest of your life, always wondering about what could have been? That sounds nothing like the Hermione Granger I thought I knew!"

Hermione sighed and quickly looked around to make sure no one was listening in.

"What kind of future would we have, Draco?"

"The kind that you've been dreaming of since you were seventeen," he replied almost immediately, as though it was a question he'd been expecting her to ask. Hermione's eyes softened and he watched as she internally debated her options. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, she was tapped lightly on the shoulder.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Matter of Time**

**Chapter 5: A Promise of Forever**

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?"

Hermione jumped at the familiar voice and turned around to come face to face with Ron. He looked so confused as his gaze jumped between her and Draco that she instantly felt guilt surge through her. Here she was talking to her ex boyfriend about what kind of future they may have, completely forgetting about her _current_ boyfriend in the process.

_But if he's that easy to forget, doesn't that mean something? _

Hermione forced away the annoying voice inside her head and smiled up at Ron.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" she asked in an overly-cheerful voice.

"I need to ask you something – in fact I was just going to apparate over to your place to find you, but then I saw you here. Next to Malfoy. What are you two talking about?"

Hermione swallowed thickly, her eyes wide in anxiety as she raked her brain for a suitable answer. Her hesitation made Ron quirk an eyebrow at her inquisitively, his eyes darkening, and Hermione was sure that she'd have to come clean.

Until Draco decided that now was the time for him to intervene.

"Relax Weasley!" he drawled with his classic smirk in place, all trace of the sincere, lovelorn bachelor gone. "Granger was getting herself a drink and I was making small talk! Nothing to get tetchy about!"

Ron's uncertainty wavered, but he still wasn't convinced.

"Why would you want to make small talk with her? You _hate_ her!"

Draco got up from his seat, smirk still perfectly intact, and slowly leaned across a blushing Hermione to Ron.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you."

Before Ron could reply, Hermione had jumped out of the bar stool and was pulling Ron away, not even bothering to spare Draco a backward glance. She was hot with embarrassment and sticky with guilt and Draco Malfoy flaunting his sex appeal and dropping dangerous hints was not helping matters at all.

"Forget it Ron, what did you want to talk about anyway?"

Ron's attention immediately went back to Hermione and he coloured slightly, indicating that it was a delicate subject and he was nervous about approaching it. She sighed – _great_. He led her over to the fireplace and held her hand gently in his.

"I...I've been meaning to ask you something for a while now, but I've never been brave enough. But if I don't do it now, I don't think I ever will."

Hermione's heart started to pound so hard she thought it might burst out of her body. She struggled to keep a passive expression on her face whilst holding his gaze, and resisted every temptation within her to look over at Draco, whose eyes she could feel were fixed on her.

"I know I don't deserve you. I never have, and I don't think I ever will. But I love you so much that I think it compensates, somehow. I know we don't have the best of relationships, but no one's perfect, right?"

Hermione watched him carefully, unsure of whether she should respond or not. She didn't know where this was going, and the element of surprise was not one she was fond of.

"I've wanted to be with you ever since I was a teenager, and I still can't believe how lucky I am to have you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, Hermione, which is why I need to ask you something…"

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, red velvet box. Hermione's breath hitched as he knelt down on one knee. The entire pub went silent, and time seemed to stand still.

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

The silence was unbearable. Hermione felt her entire vision go blurry as tears invaded her eyes, and it took everything she had to keep herself from apparating a million miles away from the Leaky Cauldron.

She looked up, past all of the smiling faces of the witches and wizards, and her eyes locked immediately with Draco's. His expression was unreadable. He'd closed himself off again. But she could see that he was as shocked as she was. Her eyes pleaded with him to do something, _anything_. She needed _him _to tell her what to do, even though she knew it deep down inside, because if he told her, then maybe it would make things easier. Maybe it would make doing the right thing less heartbreaking.

He smiled sadly at her, his gaze lingering on hers for a few moments, before turning and walking out. She sighed and turned back to Ron, realising that he'd left it up to her. He'd given her the ability to decide her own future. She recognised that this was him promising to go with whatever she decided, and it filled her with so much warmth and gratitude. She couldn't hide the fact that, whatever she decided, Draco Malfoy had walked out of the pub with her heart in his hands.

She looked down at Ron, who seemed to be getting more and more anxious with every passing second, and knew that he loved her. He'd do anything for her, and she knew that if she said yes, he'd spend the rest of his life trying to make him happy.

Trying to make her smile.

As sweet as it was, she didn't want him to have to try. She wanted the mere thought of being married to the man she loved enough to make her happy. And when she was irritated with him, she wanted him to be able to make it better in a way that he knew she'd like. She wanted her husband to know her well enough to not have to try, and she knew in that instant that Ron wasn't the man for the job.

"No."

There was a sharp intake of breath. Ron's eyes widened and Hermione felt her heart break at how hurt he looked. Regardless of everything, he was still her best friend.

"W-what?"

"I'm so, so, sorry Ron. But, I can't marry you."

Ron swallowed thickly before getting up and looking deep into Hermione's eyes, searching for some kind of logic that would make everything make sense.

"Why not?"

Hermione sighed. It was now or never.

"I don't love you, Ron. I tried, believe me, but apparently you can't force yourself to love someone…"

"You loved me before!" he exclaimed, the embarrassment contributing to his increasing anger. "What changed?"

"I'll always love you as a friend, Ron. But I'm not in love with you. I can't be. I'm sorry."

And with that, she ran out of the pub, leaving behind a man with a broken heart.

**x-x-x**

It didn't take her long to catch up with him. She knew he wouldn't have gone far – just in case she'd have the guts to admit the truth and come looking for him. She smiled softly at how prepared he was to risk being hurt by her all over again, and realised that she'd always be secure in the knowledge of his feelings for her.

"Draco!"

He stopped walking and turned around, looking back at her in complete surprise, never imagining that she'd come after him. Not when her chance of happily ever after with the Weasel was being offered to her on a silver platter.

She walked a little closer to him, and his eyes sought out her ring finger, unable to make out if it was adorned with a small piece of jewellery. Hermione noticed, stopped walking and held up her hand so that he could see it clearly. She felt her eyes water as she saw a range of emotions flicker across his face as he realised that she'd refused; happiness, relief, triumph, hope.

"Does that promise of forever still stand?"

Her voice made his eyes jump up to her face, and he saw the sincerity in her eyes.

"Only if you're willing to spend it with me," he replied instinctively. She smiled, feeling secure in the familiarity of their banter.

"Only if you promise to never leave me again."

He recognised how serious she was, and knew that she needed reassurance, but he did too.

"Only if you promise to forgive me for leaving you in the first place."

"I forgave you a while ago. I just didn't realise it."

Her confession surprised them both, and she blushed a little at her own honesty. Draco smirked and walked closer to her.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Maybe," she said in an indifferent tone. "It depends."

"On what?"

"A few things."

"Enlighten me."

"Well, for a start, your arrogance needs to be toned down immensely…"

"But you love it!" he replied with a sly grin.

"No Draco, I happen to despise it!" she said, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Despise is such a strong word! Besides, it's part of the package."

Hermione sighed, but gave him an amused smile. He grinned back and continued to walk closer to her.

"Will you set your house-elves free?"

"_What_?" the complete randomness of her request made him stop walking and look at her in confusion.

"Draco, I can't live with you if you keep house-elves without paying them!"

"_Live with me_? Someone's getting a bit ahead of themselves!" he joked. She rolled her eyes.

"If I agreed, I'd be agreeing to forever. That happens to involve things like living together!"

"What other things does it involve?" he asked quietly, now standing directly in front of her. She smiled.

"The usual; gorgeous house, marriage, beautiful children…"

"And how much is all of that going to cost me, baring in mind that I'd need to set aside wages for the staff as well?"

Hermione grinned in triumph.

"Is this you agreeing to the terms and conditions?"

Draco wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"That depends on whether you are agreeing to the deal."

Hermione leaned her head closer to him until she rested her forehead against his, the feeling of being so close to him after so long coursing through her body.

"I have one, last request."

"And that is?" he whispered.

"You have to buy me...a large bouquet of yellow tulips!"

Draco glared at her and she laughed at his expression. He rolled his eyes as he watched her, knowing full well that he would buy her anything she wanted, just to make her stay with him forever.

"It's a deal," he whispered, his eyes bearing into hers and holding her gaze. She stopped laughing and put her hands around his neck, with such ease, as though they belonged there.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she replied before tilting her head up and kissing him. He smiled against her lips and opened his mouth to let his tongue get re-acquainted with hers. It had been a bumpy ride, but they were finally back where they belonged.

**A/N: **The End! I can't believe it's over already! But I didn't want to drag it out for too long, so I decided to keep it short and sweet! ;) Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted – each and every one has given me the confidence to continue! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter – are you happy with the ending? Did it have enough fluff and Dramione banter? I still have a couple of one-shots and stories but I really don't know when I'll be able to edit and upload any of them. Stay tuned though, and I'll see what I can do! Love you all! xxx


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